Planning
by Aireon Maris
Summary: Spike and Buffy discuss the future over beer and hot wings. Someone interrupts. Sequel to "Broken." AU post Chosen post Not Fade Away


Finding

Spike and Buffy discuss the future over beer and hot wings. Someone interrupts.

The pub was crowded and noisy, but Spike liked it that way. It meant no one would be paying attention to the pair of blondes in the corner table. He reached over to refill Buffy's cup from the pitcher of beer he had ordered.

She was looking far more relaxed than she had a few days ago when he had shown up at her door and found her living with an abusive boyfriend after losing her Slayer powers. She accepted the refill, licking sauce from the hot wings off her fingers. "So…now what?" she asked once her mouth wasn't full.

"Exactly what I was thinking, Pet," Spike replied, lifting a dark eyebrow. "What now? What do you want to do?"

She shook her head. "I can't believe I actually agreed to come with you," she said, staring into her glass. Spike tilted his head.

"Why did you?"

Buffy didn't look up. "Because you gave me a way out." She drank deeply, set the glass down, and then lifted her gaze to Spike's face. "Because I trust you. Because you love me."

"Three very good reasons," Spike said, nodding gravely. "Now. Just say the word and we'll be anywhere you want to be. Anywhere in the world."

She hesitated. "Well, I've always wanted to go to Italy…"

Spike grinned. "Done. I know a demon who runs a boat across the Atlantic. We can be in Rome in two weeks."

"Just like that?" Buffy asked, hope warring with disbelief in her face.

"Just like that," Spike confirmed. He frowned. "Little bit's being taken care of, right?"

Buffy nodded. "She lives with Giles at the new Watcher's headquarters in Scotland. After what happened, I couldn't…" She trailed off when Spike placed a cool hand on her arm.

"It'll be all right," he promised in a soft voice. "Things are different now."

She nodded again. "Okay." She slid out of her chair. "I'll be right back."

Spike frowned. "Where are you going?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Beer plus little bladder equals potty break, Spike."

Spike dipped his head, embarrassed. "Right. Um…sorry."

She laughed and shook her head at him before making her way through the crowd toward the restrooms. If she wished hard enough and squinted just right, the small bar could be the Bronze, and… She shook the thoughts away as irrelevant. She didn't need to relive the past.

On her way back to their table, Buffy found her path blocked by an expanse of tan-shirted chest. "Buffy Summers?" a deep voice asked. She looked up, startled, in time to have a badge flashed in her face. "Can we ask you a few questions?"

"Uh…no?" Buffy said timidly, edging backwards from the two rather large men. "What's this about?"

"My name is Detective Ben Ritchie, and this is my partner Detective Louis Palmer. First of all, is everything all right, ma'am?" the man in tan asked, an earnest look on his face. Buffy stared at him in confusion.

"Everything is fine, why?"

"We received a missing persons report from a man named Greg Thomson, Ms. Summers," Ritchie explained. Blue Shirt remained quiet and sullen. "We were told you were taken from your home two days ago."

"What's going on? Are you all right, Pet?"

Ritchie swiveled to look at Spike. "By a man matching your description," he finished, glaring ominously at the slender vampire. Buffy gaped in amazement and started laughing.

"Greg told you Spike kidnapped me?" she asked incredulously. Spike swore under his non-existent breath.

"Bloody wanker," he muttered. "I knew he was trouble."

"We'd like you to come with us so we can clear things up," Ritchie said, taking a step towards Buffy. Spike instantly placed himself between the detective and Buffy.

"I went with Spike willingly," Buffy explained, peeking around Spike's back. "He didn't kidnap me."

"We still need you to come to the station with us," Palmer spoke for the first time. Spike looked over his shoulder at Buffy.

"We'd better do as they say, luv. We don't want any trouble, do we?"

Buffy sighed and nodded agreement. "Fine. But this better not take long."

An hour later, Buffy was seated at a plain metal table in a non-descript room, answering the same question for the third time. "Spike did not kidnap me," she said with a sigh. "I chose to go with him."

"You chose to leave your boyfriend for a man who allegedly broke into your home," Ritchie asked, his voice skeptical. Buffy leaned her elbows on the table.

"I let him in. I told you that before. And I've known Spike for several years now. He's a close friend of mine."

In the next interrogation room, Spike leaned back in his own chair, unperturbed by Palmer's stony gaze. "Why did I ask her to come with me?" Spike echoed. "Well, because I care about Buffy too much to leave her with some bleeding poofter that beats on her, that's why!"

"Why would she want to go with you?" Palmer demanded, crossing his arms. Spike grinned wolfishly.

"Well, see, I asked her the same question shortly before you Nancy-boys showed up. Apparently she trusts me," he replied smugly.

"Why did you agree to leave with Spike?" Ritchie asked Buffy. "Had you two been seeing each other?"

"You mean, was I cheating on Greg with him," Buffy rephrased the question. "No. I hadn't seen Spike in almost three years when he showed up on my doorstep. And I left with him because he gave me an opportunity to leave Greg."

"Leave Greg?" Ritchie echoed. Buffy reached up and pulled her sweater away from her neck, revealing the still-livid bruises at her throat. Ritchie winced and had the decency to look ashamed. "I see. So you are willing to testify that your departure with William Blood, aka Spike, was completely voluntary?"

"Yes," Buffy said firmly. "Now can we go?"

"I'll need a minute to confer with my partner. Please sit tight, Ms. Summers." Ritchie exited the room at the same time Palmer was leaving the other. "Well?" he asked Palmer.

"Says he rescued her from an abusive boyfriend," Palmer said. "That they're friends and go way back."

"That's what Summers said, too. Even got some nasty bruises to prove it."

"How do we know 'Spike' here didn't hurt her?"

Ritchie shrugged. "We don't have any proof or a warrant to check. We can't hold him."

Palmer scowled. "Damn. I keep getting a weird vibe about him."

The other sighed. "Nothing we can do." He opened to door and called to Ms. Summers. "You're free to go now, ma'am. Thanks for your patience."

She picked up her coat and hurried into the hallway, meeting Spike as Palmer let him out. "Did you say nice things about me, Pet?" Spike asked with a smug grin.

"Let's get out of here," she said instead of replying. She sent a covert glare at the detectives before accepting Spike's proffered arm.

"One last thing, ma'am," Ritchie said before they left. "If Mr. Thomson has hurt you, you can file a restraining order and a report."

"That won't be necessary," Buffy replied. "We're not going to be in the country much longer."

With that, the two marched arm-in-arm out of the police station.


End file.
